Kitchen Alchemy
by Shriayle
Summary: "You don't have to be a chef or even a particularly good cook to experience proper kitchen alchemy: the moment when ingredients combine to form something more delectable than the sum of their parts."- Erin Morgenstein. So let's see our favorite pairs in all sorts of situations, but let's watch their relationships blossom together. (Will contain AUs, will not contain lemons)
1. Of Monsters and Coffee

**Hello there! Welcome to this... anthology of sorts. I'm not used to writing one-shots, and I'm not used to writing romance. Therefore, why not write a collection of one-shots focusing on romance? If you ever have a pairing you want me to write, no matter how canon or crack it is (though I might draw the line at a few LOL), I'll take it under serious consideration :) All of the prompts will be from the fanficy-prompts tumblr or from other tumblr things I've found over the years, and the users that submitted them/gave the idea will be credited. So, here's the first:**

 _ **"Pick an OTP. Imagine them meeting like this:**_

 _ **my favorite college experience is when i had a 7am class and the kid next to me literally poured a monster energy drink into his coffee said "i'm going to die" and drank the whole thing" (korrakun and m-azing on tumblr)"**_

 _ **PAIRING: SOMA x ERINA**_

* * *

A Nakiri never failed. That's what she had been told her entire life: to fail her family was to fail her honor, to fail everything that she and her father and her grandfather before them both ever lived for. Filial loyalty was almost as important; the family was everything. Therefore, if her father and grandfather managed to actually agree on something she had to do, she had to do it, and be the best in that field.

That didn't mean that Erina was enjoying herself in business school.

She grumbled to herself as she tapped her pencil impatiently on the desk, waiting for her morning seminar to start and resisting the urge to wipe the sleep from her eyes with the back of her hand. It was her second year at college and she found herself counting down the remaining days until her graduation and she could finally open the little café she always imagined herself having. It had already been a huge blow to her father when Erina told him that she didn't want to take over the expansive Nakiri Corporations from him. If it weren't for her cousin Alice wanting nothing more than control over the family company, Erina would still be stuck at home, polished and carved under her father's watching eye and careful hands, molded into the perfect heir the way she had been her entire life.

It wasn't that Erina hated the company. Rather, she enjoyed walking through the halls and talking to all of the workers. She was fine with all of the people she had to interact with in the corporation, even Alice's somewhat bipolar secretary, Kurokiba Ryo. She was especially close to her own secretary, a young woman around her age names Arato Hisako. It had been Hisako who had given Erina the gentle nudge to go ahead and tell her father that she wanted to pursue her own dream in her own field.

A café. A small place that she could call her own, one where she could explore her heart's desire in pastries and coffee blends. Erina couldn't explain why, but the idea of such a place pleased her, and the idea of owning one? It had been her lifelong dream, ever since she had gone to one such café in Paris when she was six, owned by a man with ruddy brown hair, dancing dark gold eyes, and a wide, warm smile that she had never seen before. Her father had known the owner. Apparently, they were old college roommates, and Erina's father disapproved of how his old friend "wasted" his economics degree in a little shop. The man had laughed, shaken his head with a sigh that sounded like "Azami-san...", and offered Erina a little fruit tart. She had taken it after her uncertain glance at her father was answered with a little nod, and she had nibbled at the edge of it politely, not expecting much.

The flavor had exploded in her mouth in a burst of what she could only describe as color. She couldn't explain how, but the reds of the strawberries, the orange-yellows of the peaches, and the greens of the kiwi that covered the tart slipped into her senses and overwhelmed her in a vision of knights in golden armor riding steeds of crimson over glaringly verdant hills. She had snapped back to her senses when she heard her father's sharp "Erina!" in her ear. She then realized that she had eaten the rest of the tart in her ecstasy.

Her father had shaken his head. "I swear, Saiba-senpai, you always have these kinds of effects on people. Next thing you'll know, my Erina will want to bake and cook as well as you can."

Erina had scoffed at the light-hearted tease at the time and pouted at the other man's boisterous laughter.

How she scoffed at her younger self now.

Erina dreamed of going back to that little patisserie and trying other treats, but when she was last in Paris at the age of fifteen, she learned that it had closed two years prior and that the owner and his son had both decided to leave and travel the world, learning more techniques.

Oh, did Erina envy them. She had dreamt of doing the very same thing since that first fruit tart.

Erina squeaked slightly when she felt something warm land next to her hand. Looking over, she saw a rather large cup of coffee a couple of centimeters away from her fingers. Belatedly, she realized that it was the cup radiating heat that she had felt. She looked up to glare at the owner of the cup.

Spiky red hair, bright gold eyes with uncharacteristic bags framing them. Erina had seen this boy around before, usually with a girl that had honey-colored eyes filled with uncertainty and blue braids. He didn't impress Erina, honestly. He had apparently been seen as one of the weakest students in the economics lecture class they had taken together the year before, the person that everyone joked made the class easier for everyone else by lowering the curve. Erina didn't know how this _utter child_ had gotten into as prestigious a university as her.

"Yo," he greeted after seeing her glare. "What's up?"

Erina sneered silently and turned away, pointedly moving her hand away from the coffee cup.

"Oh, thanks for reminding me." Erina heard a sharp _CLICK!_ from his direction and whipped back around with an incredulous look. The boy was now holding a large black can, an energy drink covered in English that Erina had never seen before. He opened up the coffee cup, revealing that it was only filled to about two-thirds of the way, and poured the entire energy drink in, filling the cup to the brim. As Erina watched with wide eyes, the boy put the cover back on the coffee cup and began to drink the concoction he made. It took him all of thirty seconds to finish the entire thing and slam an empty cup back on the table, blinking as he winced at the flavor.

"I'm gonna die," he muttered to himself, getting up as he rubbed his eyes.

"Saiba Sōma! We're about to start!" the teacher's assistant leading the four-person seminar said as the boy passed her. If possible, Erina's eyes grew even wider.

"Gomen, gomen," the boy, Sōma, muttered. "But my family name's Yukihira now. Dad changed it two months ago."

"Yukihira Sōma, then. It's time to start our discussion."

For the next hour and a half, Erina was shocked not only by Sōma's caffeine consumption, but by the sudden surge of energy he seemed to feel after putting on some kind of white headband. She watched him butt heads with the teaching assistant over how inflation affected businesses, watched him cite various personal experiences in dealing with rising food prices.

It was then that Erina thought that the next few years just might not be so bad, if such an interesting man's interesting son would be sharing classes with her.

"And also, in that one cooking anime..."

Or maybe not.

* * *

 **(unedited. If you want to be a beta for this, let me know!)**

 **...I tried. Anyhow, if there are any pairings you want to see, please let me know in a review and I'll be sure to try to write a one-shot for it! If you want to see a short continuation of this one for whatever reason, let me know that too. It wasn't as shippy as I thought it would be, but eh, works for me.**

 **-Shriayle**


	2. Seeing Eye to Eye

**Thanks for all of the support! I'm hoping that this installment will be a bit more shippy, but I'll have to reserve my judgement on that, haha. I'm currently working on a 8-10 page paper for one of my classes (finals are upon me) so updates will be scarce this week, on this and my other story, _Her Ani, His Im_** _ **ōto,**_ **so sorry about that!**

 **REPLIES:**

 **evolvelove:** I updated my description, haha. As an asexual, I have no idea how to write lemons. I suppose I could read a bunch and try and figure it out, but I'd rather not at this stage. | **Eramis8:** I am surrounded by caffeine addicts here in college so yeah, I get what you mean. One of my friends managed to survive an entire day on a single chai latte, and I'm still giving him a lot of crap about it... | **BlizzardPhoenix222:** You gotta do what you gotta do... | **Izanaomi:** It was more beginning-of-ship than actual ship, I feel. Maybe I'll turn it into a two-shot and add a second part in, haha. | **sea1:** There won't be any more Sōma/Erina in the near future, but I'll be sure to bring it back :) | **Justinsj5:** Yep! This anthology is made for me to practice. I'm workin' on it... | **l Hypocrisy l:** I've never actually had coffee by itself even, but I'll keep that in mind xD | **Pirate. law:** I just might! Thanks :)

 **Also, to anyone that requested something, I've taken it down and begun looking for prompts that match with the pairings given. So far, my next few plans are Alice/Ryō, Sōma/Rindō, Kojirō/Hinako, and maybe another Sōma/Erina? We'll see.**

 _ **"Everybody is born with heterochromia- your right eye is your own natural color but your left is the color of your soul mate's, and it's only once you meet and recognize your own eye staring back at you that your eyes change to match. (Soul mate AU)" (werewolfzero on tumblr)**_

 _ **PAIRING: SŌMA x HISAKO (requested by evolvelove)**_

* * *

"No, you're not walking to the Academy. I'll have a taxi pick you up."

"Pops, it's fine, I can walk, I'm fifteen."

"Sōma."

"...fine."

And that's how Yukihira Sōma found himself in the passenger seat of a surprisingly clean taxi for forty-five minutes.

"You're looking to transfer into Tōtsuki Academy, I hear?" the driver asked conversationally. Sōma glanced over and looked at the man's identical blue eyes. "It's a hard school to get into, hmm?"

"Yeah," he answered shortly, averting his gaze. The driver looked at him sympathetically.

"Look, kid, you've got your whole life ahead of you, don't worry about it too much," he said before looking back at the road, since they were getting near the expansive school.

Sōma remained silent as he stared at the mirror on the side of the car. He saw his gaze reflected back at him: his right eye the burning gold he knew he inherited from his parents, his left a burnished bronze-red, one that was so singularly unique that Sōma wondered if he would ever meet the person who it belonged to. It seemed an impossible task; who in the world had eyes of that dusty red, the color that both enchanted and infuriated him? He imagined the person it could belong to: would they be sweet or sharp, timid or confident? Really, he had no preference. He just wanted to meet them, and meet them now.

* * *

"Hisako? Hisako-san!"

The pink-haired girl jumped slightly, the papers in her hand shuffling slightly along with the movement. She looked up quickly and winced at the burning glare that came from her mistress's orchid and green eyes. "Y-yes, Nakiri-sama?"

" _Erina_ -sama," the blonde girl corrected sharply. "There are too many of us, and I need to make sure you know exactly who you're talking to, or, in this case, who you're _ignoring_." She gave her secretary another pointed look.

Hisako withered under the gaze. "Yes, Erina-ojou-sama."

Erina looked at her critically before letting her glare soften. "Come, Hisako-san, what is it I have to do next?" she asked as she walked down the hall purposefully, not looking where she was going. As she did, another student suddenly emerged from a doorway, looking down at the jar in his hand and reading it with an intense glare. The two collided and both fell to the ground, Erina shouting in shock and the other student cursing as the jar in his hand clattered to the floor, thankfully not breaking. Hisako stared at them wide-eyed, uncertain if she should help Erina up first or reprimand the other student for not looking where he was going.

"Idiot! Watch where you're going!"

Well, that answered her dilemma. She hurried over to the infuriated blonde, who was distastefully dusting herself off, not even looking over at who had bumped into her.

"I apologize, _ojou-sama_ ," the student replied coldly. Hisako recognized the voice as the one belonging to Hayama Akira, known for a sense of smell that was rumored to be as good as Erina's own palate. The blonde, too, must have recognized the voice because she looked up to glare straight into his face-

Hisako gasped quietly.

Akira's eyes were the same shade of sage green now, a shade of green that Hisako had seen her entire life but never on his face.

Hisako looked over to Erina.

Hers were both the beautiful, shining orchid that only her right eye had been.

The two students were staring at each other, silenced by the appearance of their irises. They both seemed unable to comprehend what was going on, and Akira even seemed to lean towards Erina slightly, a hand rising at a snail-like slowness as if to reach out to her and see if she were real.

Then Erina got up with a huff, dusting herself off again, this time more forcefully.

"C-come, Hisako-san. We have to get going." She strode off purposefully, leaving Hisako to give the still shell-shocked Akira an apologetic look before hastily following after her.

Hisako wondered why her chest ached suddenly at the sight of the two high school students staring at each other so wonderingly before Erina broke the spell.

She glanced at her reflection in one of Tōtsuki's immaculately cleaned windows. The mysterious, vibrantly gold hue of her left eye caught her attention. The odd greyish-red of her right eye seemed almost dead in comparison to the life in her left. She watched the emotion in the gold eye fade away as she slumped slightly.

Right. That was why.

* * *

"Can you believe his impudence?!" Hisako remained silent as Erina stomped into her room and threw herself on Hisako's bed. "The nerve of that child! To goad me in such a way!" She screamed wordlessly, thrashing around, her princess-like demeanor completely forgotten. "I hate him, I hate him, I hate him! Immature, clumsy, plebeian, disgusting!"

Hisako listened to the blonde shout more damning words, but all she could think about was how Yukihira Sōma's eyes shone with such passion as he cooked, how they never once glanced her way after assessing that Erina was the true challenge, how he confidently set about the kitchen, how he managed to reduce Erina to her knees with a single bite of food.

And, of course, how his eyes were the colors of burnished gold and dying embers.

* * *

"Curry risotto omurice." Yukihira-style, naturally. A flurry of blows made to match the "spear" that the judges had deemed Akira's curry. But as Sōma thought of his dish, all he could remember was how Akira's steely green eyes regarded him with distaste at first, and then with a mild respect.

Those matching green eyes.

Sōma wondered how he was able to find his other half so early; even Jun-sensei, the little teacher that Akira hung out with so much, still had a light brown right eye and dark blue left eye. He wondered when he would meet his other half. He wondered if they would enjoy the food that sat in front of him, one that he had remade and restructured based on the judges' criticism.

He felt that strange touch of familiarity when he thought about his other half again, as if they had already met, but that just seemed absurd. After all, he would have noticed if someone else had that bronze-red eye color, right?

* * *

Hisako looked down at her dish. The "mutton meat shimotsu-to curry", as she had dubbed it. It had earned her a spot in the top 8, with 92 points. Mindlessly, she ran through the huge list of medicinal herbs that she had put together to form the perfect cleanse, the one flavor that she wanted to uphold above all. It was this cleaning, this purity that she wanted to show the cooking world, the thing she wanted to spread. And what the judges said about the curry had encouraged her, made her feel even more determined to spread her ideology around the world. She wanted to revolutionize the world of cooking!

And yet, whenever she glanced at her distorted reflection in the stainless steel of the tables in front of her, she felt herself slightly disappointed by her goals. Above all, she wanted to show _that boy_ , that one person her cooking. She wanted his approval, his smile, his eyes on her.

For, what was such a grand gesture worth if you still had mismatched eyes, though you know who matched with them?

 _"If I let you help me pass the preliminaries by giving me your knowledge, it would be too easy. I want to pass on my own means,"_ she had told Erina beforehand, while she was working on her dish. Erina had smiled slightly, looked at Hisako with those matching purple eyes, and nodded. _"An attitude befitting of my aide. Make me proud, Hisako-san."_

How could she make her mistress and friend proud when they both knew that her eyes matched with those of a boy that she disapproved of?

* * *

Hisako jolted in her seat.

 _Why is that idiot child fighting two masters of their arts with a rotten fish?!_ was the only thought that ran through her head.

Indeed, Sōma had brought out his blunt fish, with scales falling off everywhere, and everyone else was shocked. Hisako had half of a mind to run down there and shake his shoulders, right in front of Nakiri Leonora, Dōjima Gin, and Nakiri Senzaemon. Hisako watched as the other two contestants shook their heads at him and walked away, but were immediately drawn back as he began to prepare the fish in a different manner than what they expected. Grilling on his little portable thing? What was he planning? Hisako found herself slowly standing up in her chair as she leaned forward, subconsciously trying to see better. She jealously watched as Erina somehow found her way by the judges' table, close to her own beloved.

She watched Sōma present his dish, her fingers drifting towards her face as the judges had a rather lackluster response to it. They didn't seem quite as impressed as they were to the others...

"If you had asked for seconds, I would have let you eat it after I poured this on it." A white broth, poured over rice, transforming the dish into another. The "Pike takikomi rice, _ojiya_ style."

Hisako couldn't help but wonder how it tasted.

* * *

"The taste of the cook?"

"A dish really full of originality makes the face of the one who cooked it appear in your heart just from tasting it."

Cooking for the little professor who took him out of the slums and gave him a purpose. Cooking for the haughty princess who was the final voice on if a restaurant was worthy of its position in society. Cooking for the two women that defined his life. It was a given, really, who would win that battle.

"Find her, Sōma. Find the one that you want to cook for."

* * *

"Stagiare, hmm..."

Hisako jumped at the familiar voice. She felt the handle of her bag slip to the ground with a clatter.

 _'No. No. Nonononononono. There is no way that I pissed off a god that much...'_ Hisako stood, shocked at who it was that stood in front of her.

The sharp _CLICK!_ of the handle landing on the floor of the station made the boy in front of her turn around. Their eyes met.

Hisako watched the dusty red blossom gold in Yukihira Sōma's left eye. From the surprised expression on his face, Sōma was watching the same thing happen in her gaze.

Hisako felt her face light up bright red. "Yu-Yukihira Sōma," she choked out, incapable of saying anything else.

"Err..." Sōma stuttered, still surprised. "...was it Hishoko?"

The spell was immediately broken at the sound of that accursed nickname.

"It's Arato _Hisako!_ " the girl snapped, crossing her arms across her chest and looking away, mildly angry. "Anyhow, we should get moving. We took too long here."

"Right," Sōma responded, leaning down to pick up the handle of Hisako's bag for her, much to her chagrin. "We can talk on the way over."

It was during that walk that Sōma learned of Hisako's love for the shōjo manga that Erina also read, and where she learned of his propensity to experiment. She talked about her parents and her little brother, he of his wandering father and dead mother. That fifteen minute walk was long enough for them to get acquainted and perhaps even more. Near the end of it, Sōma even felt the courage to reach out and clasp Hisako's hand, and she didn't fight it off.

Only the chaos of patrons storming out of the restaurant they were to work in drove them apart. They exchanged a confused look before getting to work.

* * *

"What was that earlier?"

"Excuse me?" Hisako responded, blinking.

" 'Someone like me won't be one of the chefs you read about in magazines or see on television,' " Sōma repeated in a surprisingly accurate rendition of Hisako's voice. "That's not something you should be thinking! You want to be the best, don't you?"

"I-I mean, yes," Hisako responded uncertainly.

"So don't compare yourself to someone who is seen as perfect, like Nakiri-san," Sōma said. "She isn't anywhere near your level at your style, right? So work on that, aspire to be like chefs in that field."

Hisako mulled his words over to herself. "Wow. That actually makes sense."

"Of course it does! I always do!"

Hisako ignored that. A moment of companionable silence passed between them.

"...and hey, you _were_ cute in that apron, you know," Sōma said cheekily.

"What was that?!" Hisako sprang up and glared at him half-heartedly, feeling her cheeks light up bright red as she did so. He just gave her a tiny smirk, shrugged, and walked off with a wink.

* * *

"You two are doing so well! Thank you, thank you!"

The restaurant owner's words echoed through Hisako's mind as she smiled to herself. She hadn't any confidence before, but the red-haired student she had been paired with in more ways than one had transformed the restaurant.

"So, it's our last day here together, huh..."

Hisako was jolted out of her thoughts with that statement. "Yeah, I guess," she responded quietly. They had been walking down the street, hand in hand.

"Y'know, I didn't know you wore glasses," Sōma said teasingly.

"Y-yes. I don't think they make me look very professional, so I tend not to wear them," Hisako said, averting her gaze.

"You look cute in them."

"So now I look cute in the apron and in the glasses?" Hisako shot back, turning to Sōma and raising an eyebrow in contention. "What's next, a business suit? A swimsuit?"

Sōma actually took the time to consider those two outfits. " _Sōma-kun!_ " Hisako huffed, feeling herself blush. Never before meeting this infuriating boy had Hisako blushed so much in a fortnight.

"Well, I'm sure you'd look cute in anything," he said with a smirk. As Hisako started to bluster and spit, still uncertain of what to say or how to respond, Sōma leaned forward and silenced her with his lips. They stood, wrapped around one another, for a moment longer before Hisako leaned back, locking her eyes onto his. He looked back at her before wrapping his arms around her and feeling her embrace him in response

"You remember what we talked about earlier?" Sōma whispered into her ear. She nodded wordlessly into his shoulder, burying her face in his jacket, dreading the moment in which they would have to let go.

"I'm going to stand beside her from now on. Not just as her attendant, but as her best friend," Hisako recited back to him.

Sōma grinned and kissed her on the forehead. "Good girl," he said.

"Don't treat me like some sort of puppy," Hisako snapped at him, stepping away but still wreathing her fingers with his.

"Of course, Hisako-chan," Sōma said, patting her head in order to contradict her. "Now, we're about to leave for our next destinations. Good luck to us, eh?"

Hisako paused. "R-right." She leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Good luck, Sōma-kun. I'll talk to you after Stagiare is over."

The two parted ways, but Sōma felt ready to take on any challenge, knowing that he would have someone there to guide and strengthen him. The girl who had once thought only to stand second place would be beside him and Erina as well, ready to challenge them and excel in her field, all while keeping them on their toes. And Sōma couldn't wait for the day to come where he and Hisako would be able to cook against each other, knowing they were equals.

* * *

 **i wrote this at 2am i'm sorry for low quality but hey look more romance style stuff whoo**

 **Keep sending in pairings you like, guys~**

 **-Shriayle**


	3. The Sea and Me

**Hello again! You might be wondering how I'm able to write these so quickly. To be honest, I need access to the manga to write** _ **Her Ani, His Imoto**_ **, and I wrote a bunch of these one-shots while I was in the airport/on a plane, where I had no wifi. It's a bad excuse, but unfortunately the truth. I'll be updating this periodically because of that; I might try and make the uploads on this be weekly? I like to type these up as writing practice time from time, after all.**

 **Also! Guys! It took me two chapters worth of reviews to get almost 20 pairing requests, and that's not counting the duplicates! And I'm sure you guys'll come up with even more pairings that I never even thought of once more of these stories come up. From now on, I'm going to wait for pairings to get at least two nominations (unless I decide I really want to try writing for a pairing, in which case my decision counts as the second nomination) before even thinking about writing it. Of course, if I run out of pairings somehow, I'll go by discretion/when the pairing was suggested. Finally, I'll be announcing the next pairing in the A/N after the story is over from now on, though you'll have to wait to find out what prompt I assigned to the pairing until the update :P**

 **REPLIES:**

 **evolvelove:** You are on top of things with your reviews! Thanks for your feedback :) | **Saint Danielle:** Haha, I love you too (just as platonically) :D I've been blessed with a lot of interesting couples to write about, and I really can't wait to try them all out~ Admittedly, Akira x Erina happened because Akira won the Elections, and I wanted to include something about his having a soul mate, and it just worked out logically here. Not sure if I really ship it, but eh, could be cute, I guess. And wOW that's a lot of suggestions. I'm not sure about the ones where the two people are more than 3 years apart, to be frank, but I've put the rest down (and already found prompts for them all hahaaa...) | **Demon Damian:** GET SOME SLEEP FRIEND. | **l Hypocrisy l:** I had fun writing in her point of view :3 Hisako needs more love all around. | **Eladrien:** Ooooh, never thought of a love triangle/threesome, but I might as well try, I guess ;) | **Ghost Reader (Guest):** Not sure how comfortable I feel writing that, not because it's a harem but because I have little to no experience writing romance in general. Maybe a little bit later? | **NefCanuck:** I reread the Stagiare section so many times to get the chemistry down you have no idea n_n | **Guest:** I never thought about writing the parents... hmm. Maybe once I get more comfortable writing romance? | **Moo (Guest):** Soulmate AUs are adorable :3c | **C-san:** Thanks! | **Sleeping Moon:** UPDATING AT THE SPEED OF TYPE.

* * *

 _ **"au where everything is black and white until you meet your soulmate" "imagine bumping into someone and your whole life lights up" "the colors don't stay when you're alone but when they're there by your side and you're touching? everything is beautiful" (apharthurkirklands and none-gavin on tumblr)**_

 _ **PAIRING: RYŌ x ALICE**_

* * *

The sea is a wondrous thing. Never changing, never fading, always present, always crashing down on the sandy beaches, always providing the people of the small Danish port town with their daily seafood. The essence of the sea was something wild and fierce tamed by the gentle touch of the sky: though it could just as easily tear through ships and drown sailors, it was always flattened at the horizon, soothed by a force unknown.

The wildness of the sea was one that Kurokiba Ryō was more than acquainted with. It was a ferocity he drew from, after all. Anyone who knew the seven-year-old well had seen the inferno that filled his gaze when he decided to let that sheer force overcome him. Many a person thought he went insane at those times, actually; some even suggested going to anger management.

Ryō had snorted at all of them and shouted at them to "get your _damn asses_ out of _my restaurant_ if you're going to spew that kinda _shit_ in my face!" before literally throwing potatoes at them while they fled from the building.

Anger management, indeed.

Some people pointed out to him that the "no women allowed" rule was a bit outdated, seeing as it was now the twenty-first century and all, but he just snorted at that and waved off the concerns. If he started allowing women into _his_ haven, then he would have to actually face the fact that one day, he would be expected to find the one that "lit up his world".

What a stupid idea! Who would want to see the world in color? Who would even care at that? All that mattered to Ryō was the smell and explosive taste of his food and how his patrons were forced into submission under him. This had been how he clawed his way to the top of his restaurant, and he'd be _damned_ if he threw that away to chase after someone else, someone who hadn't had to work as hard to make their lives even tolerable.

So when Ryō found himself at the fish market, shouting at the vendor for putting out his less-than-spectacular catch to sell, and was approached by some white-haired girl he had never seen before, he was less than excited to listen to what she had to say. Alice had been determined, of that there was no doubt. However, when you're used to shouting your throat raw at burly men who could easily snap your neck, a little girl wasn't very threatening. Ryō had nearly pushed her aside, but chose instead to use the fish to push her away. He hadn't really thought of her as worthy of any kind of respect.

Alice wasn't pleased.

And so, when she showed up at his pub the next day, completely disregarding the "NO WOMEN ALLOWED" policy that was clearly written on a sign on the door, Ryō nearly lost his temper completely.

"Are you serious right now?!" he roared at her. " _For fanden_! Get your polished, posh ass out of here, _dit svin_!" He reached out and grabbed her upper arm roughly, eyes blazing with anger, fully intending to throw out this spoiled brat of a girl.

His world blossomed in color.

Ryō was so taken aback that he froze, incapable of moving a muscle. Admittedly, Alice was just as stupefied; she was more intrigued by the bright red hue of Ryō's eyes, how it echoed the proud passion that she had seen in them prior. She had heard of the color red, but didn't know to ascribe it to those singular irises, but she had described them to the best of her ability.

"Your eyes," she had said. "They remind me of what I imagined fire to look like. They burn."

Admittedly a cheesy revelation. Ryō's eyes jerked back to her face from whatever it was he was originally looking at. "Hmm," was all he could say, the Berserker in him held back as his eyes began to drift off again. Alice wondered vaguely what Ryō was looking at.

"Um, hey, _dreng_ -kun, what are you looking at?" she asked, realizing that she hadn't even known his name.

He jumped slightly, his eyes widening as if he had almost forgotten that she was there and that he was gripping her arm just a smidge too hard.

"Nothin'. Your hair, I guess. Or your eyes," he said vaguely, noting how the sunlight played off of those light-colored hairs and made them seem like spun gold and the deep-pink-practically-red hue of her irises.

Alice had the faint feeling that he wasn't telling the whole truth, but she shrugged it off. "Alright, then! Would you be willing to come back with me and be my aide?" she asked cheerily, as if asking him if he liked the color blue.

His gaze filled with revulsion and he threw her arm to the side. Alice watched as the colors slipped away and cast the two of them back to the monochrome world they had always known.

"Fuck that," he sneered. "Get out of here." He immediately turned and shoved his way back into the pub.

"What if I can cook better than you?" she called after his retreating form. He froze. "I bet that you're not trained. You're not polished. Me, I could easily beat you."

" _Det passer sgu ikke_ ," Ryō seethed, whipping back around. "I could beat your puny ass to the ground with my cooking."

She smirked at him and held out a hand. "Prove it. If I win, you come with me and become my aide. If you win, I go away and you never see me again." Her heart gave a pang as it realized what she was willing to give up, but the deal was struck and the match begun.

Alice suspected that he realized just what she had offered and possibly swung the match in her favor. When she won the right for him to become her aide, he didn't protest as much as she thought he would. When she dragged him to Japan with her, he went with only a little fuss, and when he finally beat her, he stayed with her, the way he had once promised himself he would never do.

Alice couldn't understand why Ryō was so secretive. He never told her why he followed her around, why he willingly called her 'milady', and what he saw that first day, when she was completely enthralled by him and he was gazing with wide eyes at something else.

Those colors that Ryō saw, could see whenever his arm happened to brush against Alice's, or whenever she grabbed his hand to pull him along impatiently, they were spectacular. It was akin to seeing a flower blossom to life, all within a millisecond. And no matter how often it happened, Ryō couldn't help but marvel at how wonderfully peach Alice's skin was, or how rosy her cheeks turned, or how her hair wasn't quite white but actually a tint of bluish-silver that you couldn't see when the world was monochrome. When he pulled her tiny form to him for both an embrace or for the occasional kiss that the little vixen stole from him, the colors that burst into life around them were far less compelling than the vibrating, mischievous girl in his arms. Truly, he couldn't pay attention to anything else, unlike that first day.

He would never admit to her that what had captured him was the roiling ocean behind Alice. The blues and greens and aquas, the greys and whites and blacks that were still visible in it. It was calm when she grabbed his arm, but the second that he pulled away, it seemed to murmur, to protest at being forced back into its lesser glory.

The calm seas of formal competition, of almost playful banter that filled the kitchen with Alice were so different from the tempests of war that rushed through his past, crashing against him and transforming him like a piece of sea glass in the waves.

The ocean that swept him up had also brought her along with it. No matter how much it turned his life upside down, Ryō couldn't help but admit that Alice's surprising arrival into his life was for the better.

He could only look back to that scrappy little kid he had once been and try and think of advice to give him. All he came up with was, _"Watch the sea. You'll get it one day."_

* * *

 **If you're curious about Ryō's potty-mouth:**

 _ **For fanden**_ **\- For fuck's sake**

 _ **Dit svin**_ **\- You pig**

 _ **Det passer sgu ikke-**_ **That's not bloody true**

 **Aaaand Alice's much cleaner Danish:**

 _ **Dreng**_ **\- boy**

 **Keep sending in your pairings! It might take a while to get to them, admittedly, but I've already got a list of a lot of prompts that need to be assigned pairs ;)**

 **Also, if you want a pair that has already been written about but don't want a continuation of the one-shot, please specify that as well! I got a lot of Sorina requests but I'm not sure if they favor a continuation or an entirely new one-shot altogether.**

 **-Shriayle**

 **Up next: the Magician of Legumes and Empress of the Mist face off against each other, one fighting for a spot among the Elite while the other already claimed it as King.**


	4. Winning Streak?

**First off, thank you for the continuing support! I'm having a blast writing these, and I'm happy others are having fun reading them :) The reason it took me a while to upload this is that I realized just how out of character the main two in this story were, and I decided to scrap the first version and rewrite it more based on people that I knew. I am currently sitting in my college quad, listening to the birds as night falls and my fingers freeze, but I finished the story here and I love it so much that I have to post before I go back to my dorm. So I have decided and so it shall be.**

 **REPLIES:**

 **DragonRedfox:** Heya! Thanks for stopping by~ Ryō's character was a hard one to grasp until I thought about it more in terms of what kind of advice he would give his younger self, and then it all fell into place :D I'll put your suggestion for another Alice/Ryo on my list, but it might be quite some time before I can get to it. | **BlizzardPhoenix222:** I've got the soap right here, actually. | **Hikari no Suzaku:** Wow, that was some effusive praise. Not sure I deserved all of it. Thanks, though! | **whatnameshallitake:** SAME OMG I LOVE THAT PAIRING. | **Guest:** I usually don't respond to request-only reviews int his story, but if you were the Guest who commented before with those exact same pairings, I don't think I'll be able to cover them without information on Alice's father or Erina's mother. I don't like making up OCs just for this kind of thing. Also, I think Alice and Erina are related through their mothers, as in Japan, the "more powerful" name is passed onto the child, i.e. Nakamura Azami and Nakiri ? were the parents of Nakiri Erina. | **Jennosaur:** Thanks!

 ** _"au where you have a stripe of your soulmates haircolor on your wrist and if they dye their hair your stripe changes colors. (Soul mate AU)" (groanlester on tumblr)_**

 ** _PAIRING: SHINOMIYA KOJIRŌ x INUI HINAKO_**

* * *

For her entire life, that salmon streak on her wrist had baffled Hinako. Who on earth ever had a streak of hair so prominently oddly-colored, and especially for their entire life? Her own hair was a silky deep brown hue, one that she loved and cared for tenderly. She wondered if it was a curse to have a streak of brown on your wrist when so much of the world shared that same color, but she just shrugged past that thought and went back to examining her own pink streak.

For his entire life, that brown streak on his wrist hadn't bothered Kojirō at all. Why should he care about who his "soulmate" was, especially during his childhood? All that mattered was his pride and his family, two things that sent him home numerous times with bruises and scratches adorning his body. That brown streak on his wrist didn't mean a thing to him. After all, there were thousands, if not millions of brunettes in the world. Why should he start searching now? He wondered after the one who had his own streak, the one matching his distinctive salmon hair. He'd always hated his hair color. He'd even tried to convince his mother to let him dye it black, but she hadn't given him her permission. Of course, that didn't stop Kojirō, as he'd dye it a color suiting only midnight skies the next week.

Hinako would stare at her wrist, blinking in shock as the salmon hue darkened to a deep black within seconds and slowly faded back to its original color over the course of months.

* * *

"You want to what?"

"I want to be part of the Elite Ten!" The first-year smiled sweetly at the upperclassmen. It was the annual Maple Leaf Viewing, and she was sitting cross-legged with all of her fellow classmates staring at her in shock at her brazenness. Well, all of her fellow classmates bar one. Her good friend, French specialist Donāto Gotōda, had just rolled his eyes and sighed, crossing his arms in front of him.

One of the second years, a quiet slate-haired girl balanced on the balls of her feet and crouched in front of them, glanced uncertainly at the third-years. They all looked more amused by this adorable girl rather than upset by her rather outright statement, and she took that as encouragement to answer in their stead. "Well, you'd have to challenge one of us for a seat," she said, "or be appointed to one. Seeing as we second-years are currently working to challenge each other and the third-years for their seats next year, it might be bad timing for you to try and get a seat now. I'd just wait if I were you."

Perhaps Hinako should have listened to Fifth Seat Mizuhara more carefully before going ahead with her next statement. "But I want to be on the Elite Ten now!"

"For fuck's sake, will you shut the hell up?" a male voice snapped out. Hinako was visibly taken aback as one of the quieter, more sullen students in front of her looked up and outright _glared_ at her. His glasses reflected the glare of the autumn sunlight, making it look harsher than it really was. "She told you already, you can't just demand a spot on the top without proving yourself to be the best. So shut up and deal with it, will ya?"

Hinako blinked, nonplussed, while the other first-years reacted much more violently in fear of his sharp tongue. "But Hinako already got first place at the Elections. There's no one else for her to challenge," she said with a pout. "I'm bored of this place. I should have stayed at home."

The boy was surprised into silence. "Y-you were the first place winner?" he spluttered out. "You're nothing more than a _child_! Who did you beat, and how did that happen? I thought you first-years had more pride than that!"

Gotōda cleared his throat, somewhat ticked off by the implied slight at him. "First of all, she beat me. Very handily, I will admit. Second of all, she deserves more of your respect than what you seem to be willing to give her."

Hinako cut him off by simply holding up a hand. Her cute demeanor had all but faded, replaced with what felt almost sinister. Her benevolent smile was still on her face, her eyes still closed to uphold that image, but the very air around her felt colder and more menacing somehow. "Donāto-kun, you don't have to jump to my defense!" she said, laughing lightly as she did so. "Senpai just simply won't believe you, I guess. It's a pity." She opened her eyes to glare at the older boy, who just cockily raised his chin at her. "I'll just have to show him what I can do, won't I?"

The older boy just barked out in laughter. "Are you challenging me to a Shokugeki? I could beat your ass to the ground and kick you out of school without even trying."

"Try, then," she responded, smiling at him again and settling down.

"Do you know what you just did?!" the girl next to Hinako whispered desperately.

"Did I do something?" she asked aloud, the girl shushing her dramatically, waving her arms as she did so.

"You challenged Shinomiya Kojirō-senpai! The Third Seat, the only one in recent memory to outrank an upperclassman by merit of his grades and Shokugeki record alone! How do you plan to win against him?"

"Hmm? Hinako doesn't want to win against Senpai, silly!"

Someone could have dropped a feather and it would have been audible in the silence that resulted.

" _What_." Kojirō growled out.

Hinako shrugged. "I'm just bored," she reiterated. "There isn't anyone better than me in the first-years. How am I supposed to become a better chef if I can't find someone better than me in my grade?"

"Oy, don't get too cocky, Inui-chan," Gotōda said with a smirk. "I'll beat you one of these days, you'll see."

"I'd like to see you try, Donāto-kun," Hinako responded, smiling at him.

"I'm going to call a conclusion to this Maple Leaf Viewing before Shinomiya-san combusts," Fuyumi announced. "Inui-chan, if you were serious about that challenge, you'll have to fill out the details at another time."

"That's fine!" Hinako said, getting up and brushing the dirt off of her skirt. "Bye, upperclassmen!" She waved, her sleeve slipping slightly, though this detail was only visible to one person, a boy who froze upon seeing what was on her wrist. She flounced away before he could corner her again that day.

* * *

"Who _was_ that girl?! Who the hell does she think she is?!"

"Calm down, Shinomiya-san, you'll give yourself an aneurysm," Fuyumi responded, absentmindedly brushing away a few stray hairs from her forehead as her other hand darted across the page in front of her, quickly and efficiently signing the paper. "That was Inui Hinako-chan. She's a first-year, as you might have guessed, and she specializes in Japanese cuisine. She's one of the stars in the 80th Generation. They're already coming up with a nickname for her, even though she's only fifteen."

Kojirō blinked. "So soon? It took me until Stagiare for someone to come up with something for me."

"Alright, Mr. _Legumes Magician_ ," Fuyumi said, mildly annoyed at the humble brag. "Despite what you may think, you're not the most amazing chef in the world. Others can be just as skilled, or even more so from a younger age. She's been groomed for years and years before even thinking about coming to Totsuki, and it'll do you well to remember that."

"What did she make for the Election that won her first place?" Kojirō asked after a moment's silence.

Fuyumi rolled her eyes before visibly putting her papers down and opening up another drawer, leaning over her knees as she fingered through the files. She skimmed her finger across the top of the files slowly, never minding that they weren't labeled by anything at all, before choosing one and handing it to her pink-haired companion, who seemed very irked by this charade. "Those are the score sheets from the judges and the transcription of everything that happened. Is that enough to sate your curiosity?"

Ignoring the last jab, Kojirō sat down on Fuyumi's desk (much to the blue-haired girl's chagrin) and began to read through the files.

 _"Simply exquisite"_ , _"A marvel to watch"_ , _"Possibly the most talented person seen at the Elections in recent years"_. The praise was effusive and eloquent, and it annoyed Kojirō more than he'd care to admit. This girl wasn't much more than a country bumpkin, if what Kojirō's senpai had shown him was true, and yet she was able to garner this much interest from the judges?

"You were from the countryside too, smart-aleck," Fuyumi said, not looking up from her papers. Kojirō blinked as he realized that he had spoken aloud. Scowling at Fuyumi, who knew that he was and was therefore steadfastly ignoring him, Kojirō put the judges' comments to the side and began to read the transcription of the actual Election. The theme had been salmon, with a variety of the fish provided. Donāto Gotōda had used the salmon to prepare galettes, combining the briny yet rich flavor of the fish with the crêpe batter as well as stuffing the thin pastry full of both raw and cooked fish. Kojirō could see why the French specialist had gotten so far: he had balanced rich with fresh, sweet with savory. But the grouchy Third Seat could also see the dish's flaws: there was too much salmon, somehow, and without something to counteract the fatty fish, the dish could possibly taste one-note or flat. He also disapproved of the way that the first-year had tried to master French cuisine, seeing as he himself was a master of the style. His lip twitched at the recipe he read; why would this child attempt to use a red wine in this recette, when a subtle white wine was clearly the flavor to pair the fish with? Shaking his head, he turned away before he was disgusted even further. Admittedly, the dish was solid, a clear choice to make.

Inui Hinako? She had prepared a take on the Korean bibimbap, using many components of a Japanese kaiseki ryōri. Kojirō initially balked at the description; a kaiseki ryōri was meant to be multiple courses, after all, and to just throw all of them together in a hot pot was to spit on that idea. And yet, when Kojirō read more closely, he couldn't help but marvel at Hinako's precision. She had prepared a sashimi of salmon as her mukozuke, as well as simmering the salmon with seasonal wild vegetables for her takiawase. She used smoked salmon for her hassun and salmon roe for her sakizuke. Her yakimono was a more mild kind of salmon, and her hiyashi-bachi used the vegetables from her takiawase as well. Each and every one of the steps required a different set of both preparatory steps and cooking procedures, and she had managed to arrange all of the components in a way that looked like a delicate flower in bloom in the bowl. Kojirō examined the photo of her finished dish for a flaw, any flaw; could the mukozuke be too close to a warm component, therefore detracting from its desirability? Did she, perhaps, put rice with her takiawase, something that he in particular disliked? But no, no flaw could be seen, and when Kojirō saw the picture of Hinako cooking, he could see why she had earned herself a nickname so soon. It had been taken during her preparation of the hiyashi-bachi step, which had apparently been prepared with her yakimono as there were tendrils of steam encircling her as she cooked with a small emotionless smile on her face.

"The Empress of the Mist, huh?" Kojirō muttered before closing the file, putting it on Fuyumi's desk, and walking out of the room without another word. The girl's crimson eyes followed his progress as he slowly made his way out and closed the door gently behind him.

* * *

Hinako was dozing off in her small kitchen when she heard the sharp rapping on her door. "Who's that?" she asked with a yawn, stumbling over to the door of her apartment. When no one responded, she furrowed her eyebrows and tried to peer through the peephole on her door. Her height restricted her somewhat, and after a minute of struggling, Hinako just gave a resigned sigh and opened the door slightly, leaving the chain on.

"Sh-Shinomiya-senpai?!" she exclaimed, all of her sleep gone. She felt herself beginning to panic, the one thing keeping her mildly calm being the knowledge that she still had a jacket on from earlier.

The pink-haired teenager raised a single eyebrow. "You wanted to challenge me, no?" he asked, not letting any of his amusement show.

"Eep! Ah, um," Hinako began to stumble over her words. "Hinako was too forward earlier! I'm sorry!" she said, letting go of the door to bow hastily to him. Kojirō watched in exasperation and mild amusement as the door began to close, the chain preventing it from staying open, and Hinako hurried to catch it before it could slam fully back into place.

"I've got the paperwork for a Shokugeki, but if you don't actually want to do it, I guess I was _wasting my time_ ," he responded, hissing the last few words. Kojirō promptly turned around and began to walk away. He wondered how long it would take her to take her words back with a flustered attitude.

Immediately after he turned around, Hinako slammed the door open. Kojirō turned and blinked in shock. Gone was the flustered little girl, and in her place was a narrow-eyed, emotionless young woman who was staring him down.

"Bring those papers over here and we can arrange something," she said in a low tone, a fist clenched.

Kojirō warily made his way over, walking in hesitantly as she stepped to the side. As soon as he was in the room, she closed the door with another resounding slam, her back turned to him.

When she turned back around, she was all happiness and sunshine again. "Sorry about the mess! I'll go get a pen or something from my room. Do you want any tea or something?" she sang out, skipping down the hallway to get the writing utensil. Kojirō watched her go, still suffering from mild whiplash from her sudden attitude change.

 _'...what have I gotten myself into?!'_

* * *

It was the start of the next year. One year had passed since Kojirō first let Hinako cook against him. Of course, she lost. She had expected that outcome. No matter how much of a prodigy she was, she was no match for the Third Seat. Then again, the girl surprised Kojirō by managing to draw with Fuyumi somehow. Fuyumi, the girl who was passionate about cooking and cooking alone. The salmon-haired First Seat now looked over to his recently appointed Fifth Seat.

She was first in her class in terms of talent, but second in terms of Shokugeki wins, meaning that she technically got the second seat of those in her year. The title of both most Shokugeki wins and First Seat went to another of her class, one who settled all of his disputes with Shokugeki while Hinako's Shokugeki participation was in the single digits, never mind her wins. He wasn't quite sure why, really. She was quite the skilled chef, with a propensity for finding the best combinations apparently without even trying. Gotōda, who sat Third Seat though he threatened Hinako's position as Second quite often, apparently knew much better than Kojirō why she didn't try as hard, but when the salmon-haired chef tried to find out from him, he merely smiled and shook his head, refusing to answer. It both baffled and infuriated Kojirō greatly.

"Shinomiya-senpaaaaaaiiiiiiiiii!" echoed through the halls approaching him. Before a solid _'Oh no'_ could form in his mind, Kojirō was captured in a tight grasp between two slender arms and thrown off balance slightly.

"Inui-baka, get off of me," he grunted in response, struggling to escape her grasp.

"Mmmm," the brown-haired girl seemed to consider his request for a second before hugging him even tighter. "Nah."

"You are a heathen," Kojirō grumbled.

"Yep."

Annoyed even further, Kojirō spun around and grabbed her by the face before lifting her into the air. She immediately dislodged her arms from around him in order to switch from pulling at his fingers to simply frantically waving her arms through the air in a panic. _"Shinomiya-senpaaaaiii!"_ she shrieked again, her voice muffled in his hand this time.

Kojirō was about to respond when he noticed that for the first time in the little-more-than-one year that he knew Hinako, her sleeve had slipped. He froze in shock at the color of the streak he saw.

"Ha! Gotcha!" Hinako crowed triumphantly when his grip seemed to slip and she was able to worm out of it. She began to rub her face, wincing slightly. "Why do you have such a tight grip?"

Without warning, Kojirō snatched her wrist and yanked her arm towards him. Hinako blinked before flushing when she realized that he was staring at the streak.

"It changed once," she offered. "About-"

"Ten years ago, maybe?" Kojirō finished, startling Hinako even further. She couldn't do much else but nod, dazed that he knew. "Turned black? Faded back in a couple of months?"

"How do you know that?" Hinako asked, her voice sounding small and uncertain now. Kojirō braced himself before gingerly pulling his own sleeve down to reveal his brown streak, a brown he now recognized in the hair of the girl in front of him. He was sure she could recognize the shade as well.

"O-oh."

Silence reigned.

"So, err," Kojirō said, scratching the back of his neck with his other hand. "Didn't you have something you wanted to ask me?"

That shook Hinako out of her haze. "Oh. Um."

Silence fell upon them again, this time flustered from Hinako's end and impatient from Kojirō's.

"...haha, it looks like Hinako forgot," the brown haired girl said, a somewhat vacant smile painted onto her face. "Apologies~!" She took a split second to lean up, kiss Kojirō on the cheek, and dance off with a much more genuine smile. "Bye-bye, senpai!"

Kojirō was left shell-shocked as the sounds of her echoing footsteps followed after her.

* * *

 **Was that any good? I tried to use a pair with more unusually colored hair, but I couldn't find one without a better prompt.**

 **And yes, I do know someone who talks like Hinako. I channeled her spirit through her. Kojirō was based on a friend I have who acts like his life is uninteresting and such, but I wrote him much more abrasively. I tried.**

 **Next time: A return of the golden couple! Continuation of Story 1 or a new prompt altogether? I'd like some more feedback on that! If I get literally none, I'll just have to have a little AU intermission featuring the Power Couple of Disgust while I wait. You have at least a week before next story, so stay tuned~**

 **-Shriayle**


	5. Poison in Honey

**...you're not imagining things. I finally decided to publish this. Why did it take so long? Well, it's really freaking short. I tried dozens of times to continue the story to make it as long as the other stories, but I just can't do it. I'll give you guys a longer story next time, I hope. I just hope that you like this little drabble for now.**

 **REPLIES (to everything that's not just a suggestion pairing!):**

 **Saint Danielle:** I'm so sorry for bringing this to you so late ;w; This is rather brief, as well. I'll try and write a longer PCoD chapter at a future date, but I struggled with this for long enough and now I'm a bit done with the story itself. It's a lackluster plot, to be honest. | **Theblackbird123:** Thank you! | **Eramis8:** Haha, I'm more of a Fuyumi/Shinomiya person, but I tried my hardest :3 And yeah, silliness was totally necessary here. | **purplepanda22et:** Have any others you want to read? Let me know :D | **ariesta25:** Thanks!

 _ **"**_ _ **'I ask you to concoct something from all the ingredients on the list i gave you and it ends up tasting so horrible and wrong that i can't stop laughing' AU" (cup-of-hot-coffee on tumblr)**_

 _ **PAIRING: YUKIHIRA S** **Ō** **MA AND SADATSUKA NAO**_

* * *

The first thing she saw when she started her shift was the man's shockingly red hair. She couldn't see his eyes, nor his face, nor the rest of his body, really. His head was lying on the freshly cleaned bar, after all, and there was so much scarlet hair sticking out everywhere that she really couldn't see around it.

Nao cautiously approached the head and poked it with a slim finger. The man groaned somewhat loudly, his voice resonating with the oak of the bar. Nao blinked, uncertain of what to do now.

"Hey, guy," she tried. "Having a bad day?"

"You could say that," he grunted in response, still not raising his head up.

"Well, I'd like to think you came to the right place for that," Nao said teasingly. "The Black Cauldron is known for helping guys like you forget shit like that."

Maybe it was her coquettish tone, maybe it was the words she said, but either way, the man finally lifted his head up, just far enough to be able to balance his head on his chin on the bar. His golden eyes looked dead, though there was already a thin film of mirth beginning to spread across them. She suddenly became aware that he was scanning her up and down and tried to remember what she was wearing today: her usual somewhat scanty black number, one that complemented her curves perfectly with a v-neck and short skirt that didn't leave much to imagination. After all, when most of your clientele happen to be unlucky guys who were probably more than a little bit horny, maximizing every single one of your physical assets helped bring in more tips. Her hair was as long and straight as ever, carefully brushed and extending almost completely down her back with a single bang covering her right eye. Suddenly aware of this fact, Nao felt herself automatically attempt to tuck the bang behind her ear and felt the expected resistance and the hair spring back out.

She was also suddenly aware that the man in front of her wasn't exactly looking her in the eyes.

Nao carefully leaned over, placing her forearms completely on the bar and leaning forward slightly, a seductive look beginning to play across her face. "Like what you see, big shot?" she purred, smirking when his face lit up bright red and his eyes began to glance between her eyes and her even more noticeable cleavage. She allowed herself to giggle before standing up straight and crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"What would you like? As much as I'd love to stand around and chat, I'm not exactly paid to do that," she said, squeezing her arms together slightly harder. It was almost too easy to play with this man, and she was almost beginning to feel sorry for him.

The man seemed to have recovered now, and was finally sitting up straight so he could lay his arms on the table in front of him. Nao recognized his uniform as one from a restaurant just a block away, and she briefly wondered why he wasn't working before realizing how much she didn't really care.

He hummed pensively before giving her a cat-like grin that made her heart jolt for some reason. "Just fuck me up, miss," he said.

"Pardon?" Now it was Nao's turn to be flustered.

The man stood up and sat down on the bar. He towered over her as he leaned over and whispered into her ear, "You heard me. I just want to get fucked up, honey. You can do that, can't you?"

Nao felt her mind go blank before she mentally grasped desperately for something, anything. The moment of shock was quickly replaced by the seductive look on her face from before. "Oh, of course I can, big shot," she said, leaning towards him as well and leaving maybe an inch of space between their faces. She watched his eyes seem to flutter closed and smirked inwardly before grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him off of the bar; by some miracle of balance the man managed to fall onto his bar stool and not onto the ground.

"Sit down, speedy," Nao instructed, twirling back around to let her skirt flare up. "You want to get fucked up, I've got just the thing." She grabbed an alcohol mixer and threw in a shot of tequila followed by another bottle she didn't even bother to identify as cinnamon whisky until she finished pouring some in. She finished off the drink with a can of some sort of soda before shaking it up as she turned back to the man.

"Why don't you try adding some of the syrups over there?" he asked, pointing lazily off. Nao followed his finger to the sugary substances he had gestured towards and shrugged.

"The customer is always right, hmm?" she said teasingly before walking over and adding some of it in. She poured the resulting drink into a small glass and pushed it towards the man, sitting on the bar as she did so.

Eyes trained on her slender legs, the man raised the glass to his lips and tried to take a sip before choking on the first taste. "That is _strong_ ," he muttered, eyes already beginning to stream, though he was laughing out loud at the flavor.

"Can't take a little alcohol, _honey_?" Nao jeered, lingering over the term of affection that the man had used earlier. The man playfully glared at her before standing up, leaning over, and grabbing a bowl of lime slices and salt shaker from behind her, letting his arm brush against her side as he did so. She squealed at the touch and pouted at him when he gave her another smirk for it. Nao watched the man drink about half of his glass by priming his tongue with salt and following it up with a lime slice. He had the utter nerve to look at her straight in the eyes as he bit into the citrus fruit, not even flinching at the acerbic taste.

"Weak," Nao teased before leaning over and taking the drink for herself. "Watch and learn, big shot" was immediately followed by Nao quickly downing the rest of the drink she had mixed up. Taking that drink felt like getting hit by a truck followed by a piano falling out of the sky and she nearly spat it back up, but her pride and sheer will kept the alcohol down her throat. She struggled with keeping the drink in her stomach for a little bit, squirming and gripping the bar beneath her, before it finally gave up rebelling against her body and settled into a steady burning heat deep inside of her. After recomposing herself, Nao was able to open her eyes, blinking rapidly to clear some of the haziness she could already feel setting in.

The man was staring at her, both wonder and mild lust already in his gaze. "You took that well," he managed to say.

Nao summoned the will to smile arrogantly at him. "What can I say? It's my job," she responded as cattily as she could, though she could still feel herself breathing rather hard as she tried to force her body to calm down. The warmth was still burning in the pit of her stomach, and it was clear that the alcohol was beginning to affect the man in front of her more quickly than it was affecting her.

"That reminds me, I never caught your name, did I, big shot?" Nao asked.

"Not sure what reminded you, but it's Sōma, Yukihira Sōma," he responded. "And what is yours, honey?"

"Sadatsuka Nao," she responded, pronouncing every single syllable and savoring her name as though it were the sweetest of wines.

"Well then, Sadatsuka Nao," Sōma responded, "what shall I have you concoct next?" He seemed to ponder the issue for a second.

Nao gave him one final smirk and readjusted her dress, deliberately taking a while to fix the strap on her dress so that it pulled away from her body for a second longer than she needed to. She saw Sōma's eyes follow her thumb and linger on the pale skin that she briefly showed.

"Why don't you tell me?" Nao purred, slinking back to the shelf of alcohol and selecting the bottle of rum.

This was definitely the most fun that she'd had in quite some time.

* * *

 **...yeah. It's really short. I'm so sorry. I just saw the prompt and it clicked into place with these two, so I tried, and I ended up with this.**

 **It's a bit more, er, T-rated than the others, too xD I'd say sorry but I was experimenting so I'm not really that sorry..?**

 **Leave a review with comments and pairing suggestions!**

 **HINT FOR NEXT TIME: I guess no one wants to see the Golden Duo? Hmm, how many ways can one create a don, then..? ;)**


	6. She Who I Knew, I Who She Forgot

**I'm sorry for not updating** _ **Her Ani, His Imoto**_ **but I'm kind of at a stalemate as to where to take that story. I'll be updating it soon, don't worry! For now, have some more little tidbits :)**

 **REPLIES:**

 **Saint Danielle:** I'm just usually really harsh when I'm talking about my own writing, to be honest :P | **evolvelove:** Haha, I'm still no good at writing lemons so this story is staying T. | **Trufflepiig (Guest):** I've taken your suggestions down and thanks :)

 _ **" 'You've always been a good cook so I encouraged your start your own restaurant and seven years down the track you own one of the most successful businesses' AU"(cup-of-hot-coffee on tumblr)**_

 _ **PAIRING: YUKIHIRA S** **ŌMA AND MITO IKUMI**_

* * *

He stood outside of a modest little cottage-like building, one that apparently housed a critically acclaimed restaurant. He blinked a couple of times before smiling to himself and shaking his head.

Of course. Why would she choose a luxurious, huge building when she had run away from such a place at so early an age? Why would she try to find a place that happened to be styled like the cage she fought to escape? Why did he doubt for even a single second that she could possibly have done such a thing? He readjusted the hat on his head, more carefully hiding his signature red hair.

He remembered her stammers, her insecurities. She had been the heiress of her family's empire, and with that came strict training. She learned that she had to grow a backbone before being treated as a princess. She learned that any weakness, whether it be feminine demureness or a weak will, was frowned upon and that any sign of such was to be stamped out with a vengeance. Her father had bred in her the fear of failure, and with that fear came a jaded disposition and a perpetual snarl.

He had been a young boy, with dirt on his cheeks and wide eyes that seemed too large for his face, when he accidentally bumped into her while hugging practically an armful of fresh vegetables for his father. They had been in the farmer's market, where only the best produce was available, and even though the food was expensive, his father insisted on getting only top quality food. He worshiped the very ground that his father stepped on; why wouldn't he drink in every single one of his father's words like they were ambrosia and nectar from the heavens? She had been there with errands of her own to run, though she was there much more reluctantly. When he knocked her to the ground, she shrieked at the prospect of ruining her sundress, her green eyes filling with panic and tears even when the rest of her face burned with fury.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he chanted, as though his very words would undo his actions. The vegetables spilled from his arms and onto the ground, tender tomatoes bruising from the fall and cabbage leaves tearing as they smacked into sharp rocks. He was conflicted between salvaging his carefully chosen vegetables and helping the girl up, and soon came to the conclusion that he must do both at the same time.

Of course, the second that the girl got up, she pushed him down, glaring down at him with glowing green chips of flint for eyes and running her fingers through her wheat-gold strands of hair in a frantic attempt to regain her former impeccable appearance.

"You should be," she spat down at him, dusting her dress off with prim smacks. "I can't believe common folk like you are even allowed in. You just mess everything up. You must have stolen all of that, since I can't imagine how you could even afford it!"

"Hey! My pops paid for this fair and square!" the boy shouted back, finally rounding up all of his vegetables back into his arms and giving the girl a baleful look.

"Your 'pops'?" she snorted. "Where is he then, urchin?"

"He'll be here soon!" the boy jeered back, his golden eyes darting around uncertainly now as he searched for his father. "...I think."

" _Baka_ ," she muttered, still trying to rub out a dirt stain from her dress in vain.

"Sōma! Yo, Sōma-kun!"

The boy perked up, his eyes glimmering with hope and relief.

"POPS! OVER HERE!" he shouted over at the top of his lungs.

"Geez, keep it down, won't you?" the girl grumbled back, wincing at the sudden volume of the boy's voice. Sōma was about to reply when he heard his father's hearty laugh from right behind him.

"There you are, son. I see you've got the produce we were looking for?" The rusty-haired man looked over, noticing the girl. "Hey, who's your friend there, Sōma-kun?"

"Her name is... uh..." The boy turned back to the girl. "What was your name again?"

"Mito. Mito Ikumi," the girl snapped, lifting her nose to the air after stating her family name. "I believe you know what that means."

"I... actually don't." The girl turned back to him, incredulous. "Sorry?"

"You don't-" the girl cut herself off with a snort. "What a joke."

Before Sōma could retort, Jōichirō cut the bickering children off by saying, "Ah, Mito-chan, it seems as though someone's looking for you over there," while pointing to a frantic looking security guard. Ikumi was less than enthusiastic at the man's approach.

"Hey, see you around, Nikumi-san!" Sōma called out as he walked away.

"DON'T CALL ME THAT, _BAKA_!" Ikumi screamed, her face growing red.

"Young miss?" the security guard panted.

"Not. A. Word." Ikumi seethed back, stalking off to get whatever it was that her parents had wanted her to buy in order to get back home as quickly as possible. They had spoken of a fancy dinner that had to be prepared, since a well-known figure of the culinary world was coming to strike a deal with the company for his restaurant. Ikumi didn't know what that would entail, but it would probably require spices. A lot of spices. As soon as she got back home, she was swept into a rush of busyness to prepare her for the dinner itself. The girl was walking down the hall when she heard her name being called from the large foyer where her parents often greeted guests.

"Ikumi-san!" The voice rang out again, melodious and soothing.

"Yes, mother?" the girl answered, walking in as gracefully as she could manage, her hair brushed until it shimmered like the wheat fields that she had visited as a child. She was wearing a more formal lacy white dress that her mother had bought for her and her father disapproved of, but she knew that she would need to look innocuously cute in order to soften this visitor up. Her father was just as aware of this, though he still managed to voice his distaste for the dress solely with his mildly disgusted expression. Ikumi felt herself shrink into the dress, as if crumpling into it would turn it into a suit on the son that her father would have preferred having.

"Saiba-san is going to come here soon. Could you please keep his son company while we discuss grown-up things? I heard from the Nakiris that the boy is a little bit of a handful, but I'm sure that our little Ikumi-san can handle it, no?"

"Ma!" Ikumi complained at the implication that she was small. The tanned blonde pouted for a little bit. "Fine. I'll do it."

"What a good daughter we have!" her mother cooed. Her father snorted, though the emotion behind the gesture was uncertain to Ikumi.

"Mito-sama. Saiba-san is here," the butler announced.

Ikumi's father nodded firmly. "Yes, bring him in. Ikumi-san, go take care of the child with him."

"Yes, father," Ikumi responded obediently, her voice a tame monotone. Ikumi's mother pursed her lips at the stiff form her child had taken on.

When the man and son duo in question walked into the door, Ikumi nearly threw a fit.

It was that dirty plebeian _brat_ and his _"pops"_.

She had embarrassed herself by acting so childish in front of the very-important-person that her parents had invited to dinner not three hours earlier.

And, of course, the first thing that the boy said upon seeing her was, "Oh, hey, Nikumi!"

Ikumi's father stiffened.

"Ikumi-san. Do you know this boy?" he asked.

"We met earlier, at the market," she responded, her nervousness making her icy voice and demeanor crack for a split second. She could feel her father glare at her for the slip and began to fear for herself.

"Yeah! Nikumi-san was really helpful! She showed me where the best vegetables were!"

 _'Huh?'_ Ikumi looked over to the boy with a bewildered glance. Was he _helping_ her?"

"Ah, did she? Very good, very good indeed," her father grumbled, relieved that his daughter hadn't embarrassed him too badly.

"Of course. This way, Saiba-kun," Ikumi said, practically dragging the boy after her before he could somehow turn this situation into a bad one.

"Uh, just so you know, my name's not-"

"Shh! Do you want to get caught?" Ikumi glanced around, nervous that someone had heard them.

"Get caught..?"

"Yes! Now shut it!"

Sōma wisely decided to listen to the bossy girl and followed her hastily into a gleaming white room filled with stainless steel appliances.

"Oh! Ikumi-chan! What are you doing here now, and who's your friend?" the jovial chef asked, turning from his preparations.

"Wait, your name isn't Nikumi?" the boy asked dumbly.

"Of course not," the girl sniffed.

"Whoops. My bad. I'm still calling you that, though."

She turned to him, her face full of ire. "And why would you do that?"

He gave her a goofy grin. "It's a cute name!"

Ikumi started to splutter. "I-I'm not... my name isn't... I..." She felt her face heat up in both embarrassment and happiness..? Why was she feeling so warm that he called his stupid nickname for her cute? She felt as though she would simultaneously die from mortification and float with joy.

The chef chuckled. "He's got you there, Ikumi-chan," he said. "Now, you wanted to prepare the kabobs, didn't you? I just took out the meat you started marinating yesterday and put it out over there, on the cutting board."

Ikumi's eyes lit up. "Here, Sōma-san, come over!" she said excitedly, racing over to the counter where the raw beef sat. She inhaled it, smelling the richness of its flavor from both aging and the spices and sauces she had lovingly rubbed into it the night before. Sōma blinked at her sudden transformation and smiled subconsciously upon seeing how happy she was cutting the meat in front of her into neat, bite-sized cubes.

The chef walked over. "It's too bad your father doesn't allow you to cook very often," he said softly.

Ikumi's blade stilled and her expression fell. "I-I appreciate the few opportunities he gives me," she said carefully, making sure that she never revealed anything to Sōma.

"Still. You enjoy yourself here. You'll probably be much happier cooking all of the time."

Ikumi bit her lip and put her knife down. She forced back the tears that gathered in her eyes and looked sternly down at the beef in front of her, her mouth trembling slightly.

"Yes. I probably would be."

"Excuse me? Sir?"

The young man, nearly an adult yet not quite, jerked slightly. "Ah, yes. Hello. I'm sorry, I was thinking of something."

"That's quite alright, sir. Welcome to Alluci; do you have a reservation?" the hostess asked politely, her smile just barely not reaching her eyes.

"Yeah, uh, Yukihira?"

She looked down the list of names before finding the proposed name and nodding, though her blank expression was jarred slightly at the name. "Dining alone, I see. I'll have someone take you to your table right away, sir."

A waiter walked up, bowed slightly, and led him to the corner of the room, where a menu had already been prepared. The room itself was dimly lit, but that didn't give it an atmosphere of dinginess or dirtiness. Rather, the young man felt as though he walked into a dream-like space, where the small golden lights that sat on each table seemed to provide comforting guidance through the misty space. He sat down and ordered something random off of the menu. A beef dish, one that he knew would turn out well.

The first bite of his meal cemented this in his mind. He remembered warm lighting, a jovial laugh, a little girl with tanned skin and bleach blonde hair and sharp green eyes. He remembered a glance of sadness and a love of cooking, a joy that seemed to overtake all. His long lost childhood memories flooded back to him, and he sighed upon realizing that she hadn't changed at all. A smile slowly curled on his lips.

"Excuse me, sir?" The waiter that the young man flagged down turned, a polite smile already on his face. "Could I meet the chef?"

"Certainly, Yukihira-san. I'll call her over immediately." The waiter disappeared into the kitchen. Sōma looked down at the table, refusing to look up until she arrived.

Not two minutes passed before someone sat down in front of him. He saw the tanned elbows and a few wisps of blonde hair and smiled despite himself.

"Yes, sir? You wished to speak with me?" Her voice had matured in the seven years that it had been, but it still had that fake hardness that he remembered from their first meeting.

"Is that any way to speak to an old friend?" He heard her breath still at the sound of his voice and smirked, looking up and locking eyes with her, startled green into confident gold.

They were silent.

"...Nikumi?"

" _BAKA!_ " she shouted, startling the patrons around her. She looked around frantically, her face turning crimson as the customers realized who had screamed and went back to their meals. "Sōma-san! When did you get back to Japan?"

"It's nice to see you too," Sōma said, casually taking his hat off and shaking his head out, his red hair flying out in a brightly colored flash. "And just recently, actually. I was called into check out the Nakiri cousins' new restaurant. Not really something I wanted to do, but I've got to do it for the family, I guess."

"I was told that someone called Yukihira wanted to talk with me, and I was expecting the famous critic. Instead, I get you," Ikumi said with a shake of her head, amused.

"Why do those have to be mutually exclusive?" Sōma asked with a sigh, leaning back.

"Isn't your last name Saiba?"

"Nah, that's Pops's last name. I took my mom's last name a couple of years back. Gotta separate from the dad, y'know?" Sōma abandoned all pretense of being cultured.

"What else happened since we last spoke? I mean, I opened this place and you've made your name as a critic, but what else? Is there a woman in your life?" Sōma thought he heard some foreign emotion creep into Ikumi's voice when she asked the last question, and she inexplicably blushed and refused to make eye contact.

"Well, no, there's no one, but I don't think now's a good time for a chat. Why don't I wait for you to close up and we can catch up as late into the night as we want to?" Sōma offered, winking.

Ikumi turned bright red. "WHAT?!" she shrieked, getting up in a hurry, blushing. She backed up slightly, looking embarrassed and yet pleased, just like she had when he first decided to call her Nikumi despite her name. Rather than responding, she just walked back towards the kitchen.

"I'll be waiting, Nikumi!" Sōma called after her.

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!"

* * *

 **Thanks for sticking with me :) I'm going to be working on the next chapter of _Her Ani, His Imoto_ , so this anthology might go on a really long hiatus yet again. My apologies in advance, and keep those suggestions coming ;) If you come across a great prompt, feel free to tell me it as well!**

 **HINT FOR NEXT TIME: Sōma's got the limelight for too long, guys. I guess it's time for the one who previously beat him to come back. Don't worry, he won't be alone; the good nature spirit will be him for a story that promises to be 100% fluff :)**


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